Hilda Hogties a Horseman

by Linda K. Hubalek

  ***

  “Hello, Noah. Good to see you. Where’s Hilda?” his mother asked when he walked into her house.

  “Back at her place.” Noah twirled his hat in his hand while thinking how to start this conversation. “Got any food—and advice this evening?”

  “Always do for my children, so wash up and help with supper. Sarah’s in the garden now picking some green beans and the potatoes are about ready to mash.”

  Noah glanced out the window, seeing his sister bending over a row of bean plants in their garden.

  “Why is Sarah’s back from the Cross C?”

  “Isaac was missing little Tate, after Millie and her nephew spent time with him back a while. So, Isaac asked Darcie, Tate and Amelia to come to the ranch for an extended visit,” Cate said as she pulled the roaster of meat from the oven. “Goodness, this kitchen is hot tonight. Let’s eat outside at the table under Rania’s shade tree this evening.”

  Rania’s tree, which Jacob gave her as a betrothing gift, had become a picnic spot for the family, even if it was hardly big enough to give any shade yet. The wind rustling the cottonwood tree gave the feeling of a breeze passing while sitting along the river bank, even if it was a quarter mile from the river.

  He had planned to ask his mother alone, but maybe it would be good for Sarah to be in on the conversation, too. His sister needed to think through some of the same questions Noah needed advice on, even if she wouldn’t acknowledge it.

  They made small conversation while eating and swatting flies, and an occasional mosquito. Noah just stuck a forkful of spice cake with brown sugar frosting in his mouth when his mother asked, “So you want to ask for Hilda’s hand in marriage, but are too stubborn to do it?”

  Noah shouldn’t have choked on her question, because it’s what he was here for, but he was surprised she knew what he needed—or maybe not. It was obvious he and Hilda liked each other, but had been circling and snarling like two cats lately.

  “I need that land, Ma, and Hilda won’t be giving it up anytime soon. What should I do?” It wasn’t quite the right thing to say to open the conversation, but it was the gist of the problem in his mind.

  Cate stared at Noah before answering. “I thought you were going to partner together to tame horses for ranchers. What happened to that idea?”

  “We are, but I don’t like the idea of her just paying me wages like a hired man for doing the job.”

  “Why not? It makes sense because it’s her pasture, feed and pens you’re using.”

  “I should be in charge of the land and decisions for our living,” Noah countered back, but then looked at Sarah when she snorted at his words. “What? That’s exactly what Ethan is doing for you. He has your hotel suite furnished and your job ready for you to start, as soon as you give him the date to make your ‘arrangement’ legal.”

  Sarah’s face pinched as she slung a piece of cake off her fork at him across the table. “Don’t call my marriage an arrangement!”

  “Well, you sure don’t seem excited about running a hotel, or being a married woman…or else you would have married Ethan a few months ago when he set the first date.”

  Noah glanced at his mother, but she was silent—like she had the same thought as he did about Sarah marrying Ethan. Maybe if he explained his feelings about Hilda, Sarah would see she didn’t feel the same about Ethan, because it was obvious to everyone but her.

  “Hilda and I…are passionate about the same things: horses, outdoor living, we love the land…even pets and family. Oh, we can bicker about things and regularly do, but that’s our way of bouncing ideas off each other, too. She’s the best person to have on the other end of my ‘board’ so to speak. Not just because she can lift a piece of wood, but she balances my life. She makes me happy.” He caught his mother’s smile and his sister’s puzzled look.

  “I’m excited to see her every morning at the breakfast table, and can’t wait to talk about what I thought of during the night. And I’ve been wishing lately—I could just roll over in bed, nudge her awake and share my thoughts immediately.

  “Sarah, you spend a lot of time here, or anywhere, but the hotel. It seems like you should be excited to be with Ethan, tell him what you’ve been doing…enjoying his hugs and kisses.”

  “It’s not that way between us, Noah. He’s an important businessman and needs to act accordingly,” Sarah countered back, with a little hesitation.

  “Ma and Pa were always hugging, kissing, smiling at each other, whether it was in the barn after unloading hay in the hayloft and they were covered with hay and sweat, or sitting in church all dressed up.”

  Noah added this last bit, because the last time they were together, Ethan put down Sarah because he didn’t like the dress she was wearing, saying it wasn’t a proper dress for her role as hotel hostess.

  “Pa always gave Ma a kiss after each meal, thanking her for fixing the food for us.” Noah knew he was making his mother miss her husband, but it would be with good memories. Their parents had a good marriage, and he wanted it with…Hilda. Now he was positive she should be his mate—if he could convince her to give him their land back. Or was that really important in the long run?

  Cate reached out to grasp a hand of both Noah and Sarah. “Your father and I loved each other deeply, and weren’t afraid to show it, because we were mates for life. We had problems we had to work through—caused by ourselves or others that we couldn’t prevent. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but we never kept anything from each other—good, bad, or frustrating.

  “I’ll ask you both to think about this. Can you see yourself going through the rest of your life with the person you’re thinking about marrying? In situations from having silly fun because you are the other’s best friend, to holding each other up if you have to bury your child? Will your spouse always support you no matter what you look like or if you do something wrong? This year, and twenty, thirty years from now? This is a life–long commitment,” she said as she squeezed their hands and let go.

  Yes, Hilda’s the one for me was Noah’s immediate answer, but he could see doubt in his sister’s eyes about Ethan.

  Chapter 10

  The muffled frantic bark of the dog came from inside the soddie. Riding the horse into the barn and dismounting, Noah pulled his revolver from its holster while slinking to the back side of the house, away from the views from the windows. Was the intruder back in the house again?

  “Hilda? Are you in the house?” But there seemed to be just the dog barking and bouncing against the inside of the door. Noah looked around to the barn again. Where was Hilda?

  Noah slid his back against the sod wall until he came to the door. Trying the latch, Noah started to open the door, but stopped again to listen for any sound other than the frantic dog. Could Hilda be hurt inside?

  Panicky with fear, Noah stepped inside, afraid of what he might find. The little dog jumped up and down in front of Noah until he squirmed through his legs and shot out the door, heading for the chicken pen.

  Noah ran after him, trying to scan in every direction for trouble. Something had really gotten the dog riled up, and why wasn’t the mutt with Hilda?

  Terror stopped to sniff and whine around the chicken pen where the bobcat sat when it visited. The dog howled and took off on a frantic run as Noah looked down to see fresh blood—mixed with bobcat tracks, horse hooves—and two different sizes of boots, a man’s and a woman’s.

  What had happened, and where is Hilda?

  ***

  Hilda stopped to catch her breath and get her bearings. She had been running for almost a quarter mile, trying to follow the tracks of the bobcat and the horse who raced over the hill behind the barn. Seeing the sandstone cropping nearby, Hilda dropped to her knees in the tall grass, realizing she was an easy target in the man’s rifle range if he was watching her. Now she was going to have to go back to the barn and get Nutcracker like she should have done in the first place, but what might happen if she came back and rode into a trap?


  Hilda drew in another breath to get her air back and try to calm her racing heart. Surely the man that just caused mayhem in her yard wasn’t who she thought it was. Sid Narker was dead. It was just someone who reminded her of him, but just thinking about him gave her the shivers.

  Hilda didn’t have time to react after she saw the stranger race into the yard. She didn’t recognize the plain brown horse or the man who had his nondescript hat pulled low over his forehead. Hilda was inside the house, and before she could pick up her rifle and open the door, the man had not only shot the bobcat, he had jumped off his horse and kicked the poor thing. That’s when Kitty attacked the man with all her anger and pain, leaving some deep gashes in the man’s leg. Hilda could see the red blood spurt from the wounds from where she stood, gaping at the soddie door. Then, the bobcat took off running. The cussing man struggled to get back on his horse and took off in pursuit. Hilda shut Terror inside the soddie to protect her faithful pet and took off, running for the hills.

  Crack! The gunshot echoed in the distance to the west in front of her and then Hilda knew in her heart she had lost her pet. Yes, Kitty was a wild animal who would eventually leave for good—probably after eating all of her chickens—but it had been so much fun to nurture and love the cute little newborn.

  ***

  “Hilda! Hilda! Answer me!”

  By now, Noah was frantic, because Terror was at the point of hysteria and collapse. Then Poker heard something and outdistanced both Noah and the little dog in seconds. Noah stopped running and leaned back to take a deep breathe when he saw Hilda sit up and hug Poker. She was okay. He couldn’t believe the pain in his heart when he thought something might have happened to her.

  Hilda was trying to compose herself before Noah got there, but he could tell by her red, swollen eyes that something terrible had happened.

  Noah barely heard Hilda say, “He shot Kitty.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know who—just some man. The horse was brown, but I didn’t see any markings or brand on it.”

  Noah looked toward the rocks again, but didn’t see any glint of metal like someone could be hiding up there.

  “I doubt the man is still nearby. Kitty…Kitty really tore up his leg…”

  Noah gave her a puzzled look.

  “The man shot the bobcat and got off his horse to give it a final kick, probably thinking it was dead. Kitty went on defense and attacked him by biting and scratching his leg, then she took off running. It’s mostly the man’s blood you saw in the yard. I heard another shot further west, so I’m guessing Kitty’s dead…and the man left to sew up his leg.”

  Noah scanned the area again. “Did you recognize him, either here out on the range before or in town?”

  “No.” Hilda shook her head and took another big draw of air to calm herself. “It was probably a traveler passing by, saw a bobcat by the chicken pen and decided to do me the favor of getting rid of it before the cat ate the flock. When he realized the cat wasn’t dead, he went after it to finish the job. End of story.”

  “I’m sorry, Hilda. I know I’ve made fun of your pet, but I hate you lost her.”

  “No, it’s part of life, death, and learning to live in between. I’ll miss Kitty something awful, but I knew she’d leave someday. I was hoping it would be by her own free will.”

  Hilda tried to convince herself it was just some man cutting through the area who shot Kitty, but her mind would not accept it. She knew it was the man who had been causing the problems on her claim.

  Noah nodded and moved an arm around her shoulders to give a squeeze of comfort. “Let’s get back to the house. Miss Terror is exhausted.” Noah picked up the mutt by the scruff of her neck to carry her home. Terror cuddled into his chest like he was her savior.

  ***

  At least he didn’t have to hunt for things in the small house because he put most of them there to begin with. Yes, Hilda had added her own items, but coming from a trail drive, she didn’t own much herself. His home had been perfect for a person to move straight in and set up housekeeping. And his scissors were in the same place they were before.

  It had been three days since Hilda lost her pet bobcat and she was still feeling blue. Tonight, to lighten up the mood, Noah bet Hilda he could teach her little mutt to be quieter. He didn’t bet the dog would be totally quiet—just less yapping, although he didn’t use those terms. Holy Terror got on both his and Poker’s nerves, and Noah figured out why when he had carried the little dog the other day, although he didn’t tell Hilda.

  Hilda accepted his bet, suggesting she’d work with his dog to improve his behavior while he “trained” her dog. She actually smirked when she strolled out of the house—with Poker happily following her to the barn—sure she’d win the wager between them. If she won the wager, meaning her dog still yapped as usual after this evening, Noah would do all the cooking for the next week. If Holy Terror was calmer after a “training session” with Noah, Hilda would wear a dress to church on Sunday.

  Noah guessed the poor thing needed a good hair clipping to get all the tangles and sharp seed heads out of its overgrown hair, and then a bath. Maybe it would be calmer if it didn’t itch so. He laid a bath sheet on the table, along with scissors and his comb before grabbing and setting the dog on the table. Noah could have used an extra pair of hands to hold the dog while he cut her hair, but after a few cuts, the dog seemed relieved of the hair loss and sat still for the most part. Noah just hoped Hilda didn’t take the scissors after him when she saw how ugly the now skinny little dog was without all her hair. He trimmed up the hair as best as he could so there weren’t chunks sticking out.

  The dog twisted one way and then the other when Noah put her on the floor while he cleaned the hair off the towel. Miss Terror looked like she needed a mirror to see her new “style”. Next, Noah put the wash basin on the table and filled it with lukewarm water. Being a “girl” he figured the dog would enjoy the same rose scented soap as Hilda, so he scrubbed the little body until its skin was pink and her hair was a pretty white again. The dog didn’t fight him at all, just relished the attention. And she hadn’t barked one yap since the tangled hair was cut off her body. Oh, he hoped this would work, as he didn’t want to cook for a week.

  Noah rubbed the little dog’s body down with the towel and she shook with excitement. Now the finishing touch—a ribbon around the pretty white dog’s neck—like Hilda always wore on the end of her braid. There were three ribbons lying on the dresser and Noah studied their length, trying to see which one would work the best. He finally settled on the dark pink, the widest and longest of the ribbons, and tied it loosely around the dog’s neck, using the ribbon ends to make a bow which rested on top of her shoulders.

  “Well, Missy, I think you’re ready to work on your manners now. You look like a prim and proper young lady and you need to act like one.”

  ***

  Hilda couldn’t believe Noah’s bet. Holy Terror knew commands, but Hilda just didn’t enforce them when people were around. The yapping kept strangers away so Hilda ignored it. She was sure she’d be free of kitchen work for a week, and could spend time doing whatever she pleased, which probably meant pulling weeds from the garden or working with the horses.

  All was quiet when Hilda and Poker walked toward the soddie at dusk. Noah sat on the chair beside the door, holding something white—and dark pink—in his lap. The man’s grin grew wider as she got closer, but her eyes narrowed as she recognized the ribbon.

  “May I present Missy, the prettiest dog on the prairie, who,” Noah said as he set the dog on the ground, “has learned her manners about barking, too?”

  Hilda couldn’t believe the transformation in the little dog. Holy Terror looked like she should be sitting in a fancy city parlor instead of living out on the prairie. Instead of long, matted hair, the one–inch short locks gave the dog a look of freedom and relief. Why hadn’t she done a trim job before now? Her poor little dog had been suffering from n
eglect.

  Miss Terror—maybe she should call her Missy now—sashayed up to Hilda like she was showing off, making Hilda feel rough and dirty now in her men’s clothing.

  “You cut her hair and gave her a bath. How’d you figure out she needed it?”

  “When I picked her up the other day, I felt a cocklebur in her hair, and figured it would be a relief to her to get it cut out. I hope you don’t mind, but being summer and all, I thought she’d be more comfortable without all the extra hair.”

  “And the ribbon?” Hilda asked tersely.

  “I thought I’d fancy her up a bit…and that ribbon was the longest. I hope you don’t mind? I haven’t seen you wear it.”

  Noah grinned at her, and held his hand up to his ear. “So how do we decide who won the bet? I don’t hear any constant yapping…”

  Hilda sighed, knowing she had lost this round. “Fine. Guess I’ll still be cooking meals and wearing a dress on Sunday.”

  She tried to carefully untie the ribbon from the little dog’s neck, but Holy Terror thought it was a game and caught the end of it in her sharp little teeth. Hilda tried to hide her tears as she extracted the shredded and stained ribbon away from her dog’s mouth. Her special ribbon was ruined.

  Chapter 11

  Hilda blushed every time someone commented “You have on a dress!” in church this morning. Noah almost felt bad that he had won the bet, but enjoyed seeing her dressed up for a change—although she didn’t seem like the same woman who he worked with during the week. And Noah noticed that she caught the eye of more than one man in church today, which made him a jealous, because Hilda was his woman—even if he hadn’t asked for her hand in marriage yet.

  Hilda usually wore a split skirt and shirtwaist to church, so it didn’t seem like much of a difference until she paused when getting on her horse this morning. He didn’t have a buggy to hitch up for her to ride in, so she hitched up her skirt and petticoats and tried her best to cover her legs while they rode in to town.